


What's in a Song?

by Akzeal



Series: OC'Verse [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Culture, Cultural Differences, Culture Shock, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akzeal/pseuds/Akzeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a lady wakes up to find that she's not exactly a lady any more, or even human, she doesn't know how to react. That's okay, though, because the Tape-deck Enclave is used to helping their own. Part of my OC'verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do apologize for the female character, just because I know a lot of you have hang-ups about it. I started writing this with a guy, but that was a no-go. Anyone else ever try to write a 'deck? Then you know that what they want, they get. >

She was in... some place, though she wasn't sure where. It was dark, so dark she wasn't sure her eyes were actually open, but she thought there were shapes that were darker, and ones that were lighter, so that seemed to indicate they were open. And there was humming. Humming everywhere. She could feel it in her bones. It wasn't bad... it didn't hurt, it kind of felt good, really. 

None of that answered where she was, though. The last she had known, she had been going to sleep, in her home, just like always. Now she was... somewhere. Some place that was _not_ her home. 

She tried to sit up, but a hand pushed her back down. It was large and heavy, and the pressure was firm, but not painful. The humming increased, and a couple notes sounded, synthesized and slightly distorted, and she relaxed and allowed himself to be pushed down without a fight. There was a chime, and she smiled despite her fear. 

"W- where... am I?" she asked softly. The words felt... strange, wrong, and her voice echoed strangely. 

The shape put a finger against her mouth and shook its head, and she was slowly realizing that the boxiness, the squareness, was not a figment of her imagination. Her own heaviness... probably wasn't imagination either... 

"Don't worry," the form answered, and there was something strange in the words. She _felt_ them as much as hearing them, gentle and, like so much else since she woke, musical. They felt soothing, like the humming did. "You have changed a bit." 

The words, she realized slowly, weren't English. They were mechanical, some kind of buzzing, clanking, wailing, and yet she understood them. The hand pressed against her before she could start to sit up. 

"Stay down. You've changed. You need to adjust. You are not the first, and we know what to do." It was soothing, even though the words really weren't. 

"What do you mean, changed?" she tried again. Again the finger on her mouth and a shake of the head, and she sighed. How was she supposed to get answers if she couldn't ask questions? 

"Ask better," came the response, and there was something in it which indicated laughter, gentle and harmless amusement. It wasn't a very _useful_ answer, though, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. 

"What do you _mean_?" she asked again, voice cracking a little. For a moment, she heard a new tone in the hum which still shook her bones, if she actually had bones. 

"That's better," the answer came this time, once again with the sound of humor. It still wasn't helpful, because she wasn't sure what she had even done. Whatever it had been, though, she needed to do it again if she were going to get answers. That's what it seemed like, at least. It didn't seem right... 

She thought for a moment, a long moment, and tried to do the same thing. Her voice shifted, even in fear, and came out close to a wail. "What's _happened_ to me?" 

"You've become like us." There was approval in the sounds. Not in the voice, strange and mechanical, but in the _sounds_. The humming, the crooning, deep rumbling purrs... She was being given approval. She had managed to do something right... 

Sounds. The _sounds_ were the meaning.

This time, carefully, she intended the additions to the melody. She still wailed more than anything so nice as crooning. "What do you mean, like you? What do you mean?" It hurt to speak, but she knew she was being rather loud. 

"You can see," came the answer. The shape pulled back a little, but the lighting did not improve, and so she still couldn't see very much. She was allowed to sit up, though, and to reach slowly for the shape. 

It was boxy, as squarish and as hard as it looked. Well, as she looked. The shape was a person, after all. A person... 

A mech. 

A square, angled mech with a synthetic voice and a face-mask, though yellow optics showed over that. Square and angled with glass on his front, and this wasn't just any mech. It wasn't one of the two she had seen, though... but she knew the model-type. 

"A tape-deck?" The words came stumblingly, and with a series of falling tones, notes. 

"That is how you say it," the shape- the deck, answered. "We are Twincast. You do not yet have an agnomen." The last word sounded strange to her. _In_ her, her ears and her brain and her bones, or whatever it was she had now. The meaning was carried in the same feeling, as 'name' and 'calling' and tones of 'truth'. She pulled her hand back and looked at the the shape, the deck, as well as she could. 

"My name-" 

The hand came up and silenced her. "Names do not matter. Designations do not matter. You do not have an agnomen yet. You will get one." 

That seemed a strange choice of words, but with no real option, she nodded, accepting the answer. "Okay. ...My throat hurts..." 

There was a literal trill of laughter from the deck, Twincast, and the mech pet her neck gently. "Poor thing. You're using the wrong language. We will help. Do not fight us." 

She got no chance to ask what Twincast meant. Before she could, the mech- mech! pushed her down, carefully, and pried at her, pushed something into her side. It was not a particularly pleasant experience, but the soft, ever-present humming, from all around, not only from Twincast, kept her from panicking. 

Something twisted in her brain, twisted and unfurled and turned, and the humming snapped into a melody, into a song, into layers of harmony and feelings. She whimpered into a moment of silence, and then tried again to sit up. 

She was, again, allowed to sit up, holding to Twincast. Though the room wasn't any brighter, it did seem to be a little _clearer_ , and she could tell, now, that she was underground, in a roughly-shaped cave. She had no idea how large Twincast was... as large as other mechs? Did tape-decks come in more than one size? 

"Your questions will be answered as you learn. You will stay here. You will be safe," Twincast assured her, helping her to stand. "This is not your room. We will take you there." 

She hesitated to speak, looking around and trying to find her balance, desperately curious about himself, how she looked now, but she still had questions, and the most pressing was, "Who is we? I only see you." Speaking was easier now, as Twincast had promised, and the melody came easier as well. 

"We are Twincast," the answer came, easily. "We told you that." 

"...Oh." _They_ were Twincast? That didn't make much sense. 

"Not gestalt. Not twins. Not including cassettes," Twincast said, with a tone saying that he had got those exact same questions so often he didn't even have to think about the answers. He, or 'they'. Out of the two... 'They' might be more accurate. 

Holding her hand, supporting her, Twincast led her to the door and opened it. There were more caves outside, lit by covered lights of a sort she hadn't seen. They were still not much brighter than the room... 

"You have perfect recall. You will be able to retrace this path. You may need some time to learn how to access your recall." The information was given simply, directly, and gave her something to focus on. It was helpful... 

Only a little ways down the cave-halls, Twincast stopped again, and this time he, or they, pulled back a curtain. "These are your rooms. We will return later to offer more aid. You may wander, but we doubt it will be much good. You will be safe, though." 

She nodded a little, and then hesitantly slipped into the room. Twincast stayed out, nodding to her as he drew the curtain again. 

Her rooms? Looking around, they didn't look bad. This was a sitting room, it seemed, with two more curtained openings leading off the back 'wall', and a table with a couple chairs, and a comfortable couch. The other room, she found as she looked, was just what looked like a bedroom to her, with storage carved right into the walls. It had an actual door, which led to something like a bathroom, or at least the 'shower and tub' part. It stood out from the other cave-rooms, because this room was tiled, smoothed, with drains in it. It was rather nice, she thought.

The other room was also a bedroom, with a difference. 

"The song said you were singing. I'm... not so sure yet. I'll be sticking around a while, to see for myself." 

Sitting on her bed was a white cat, who looked up and addressed her as though the situation were completely normal. From the joints and her own understanding, she could see that it was a cassette, in much the same mode as Ravage or Steeljaw. 

"You're on my bed..." 

The cat, cassette, gave a rasping laugh at her words. "No. Yours is in the room with the wash-rack. _I'm_ sensible, but not all the cassettes you might gather are the same, and I've seen some terrible messes made when they have free access to wash-racks. Of course, I've seen some terrible messes made in all cases..." 

She just stared, not at all sure what to make of that. Tape-decks had cassettes, of course... But _her_ having any? Her being a tape-deck...? She couldn't... she really couldn't deal with that. Without answering the cassette, she drew the curtain back and turned back, going back to 'her' room. She'd just... sit here for a while. 

In time, the humming and her own confusion lulled her into sleep. There were no dreams, and she was surprised to wake in the same place. Last time she had gone to sleep, after all, she had woken in this place, which was not at all where she had slept. She hadn't been able to stop the hope that she would wake up at home. 

It took a moment for her to work out why she had woken. When she did, she was rather surprised she had even noticed it. The humming, the song, was different. There was... someone...

The white cassette padded into the room, and sat on his haunches, chuckling a little. "You're up. Do you know why?"

"...Because I'm not sleeping," she muttered back, rubbing her face and shivering a little when her fingers were metal. "The humming changed." She didn't voice her thought, unsure how to phrase it, but there was still a melody in her tone, which gave away more than she knew.

"Yes, there's someone waiting for you. I'm surprised..." The feline moved again, touching her knee, and then sat back down. "Will you go out, or should I invite him in for you?"

"I- I'll go..." she murmured, standing unsurely. "Why not?" She could invite the mech, but... She wasn't sure she wanted. This was... _her_ place, and she wasn't yet ready for others to enter...

The cat followed, walking beside her as she made her way out to the front door. She pulled back the curtain, and blinked a little at the red mech standing on the other side. A tape-deck, like the other. Like herself.

And one she knew. "B- blaster...?" she asked, but the word came out strange, almost painful.

"I am Blaster," the red mech agreed, nodding, and his words were a song, sound and underbeat...

She blinked again, optics flickering. "You're not as melodic as Twincast. But you're... stronger?" That wasn't the right word, not really, but she wasn't sure what better word could fit.

Blaster only laughed. "No, I'm not as melodic as they are. That's why I'm Blaster." He stepped back a little, then motioned a little down one hall. "You probably want breakfast. An' I know Glit does, speaking of, hey there. What are you thinking of?"

"That you can hear her as well as I," Glit answered. And something in _his_ voice, his song, suggested he was not talking about the words or language being used.

For a moment, she almost thought that if she just listened, had a chance to hear Blaster and Glit talking, or the others, she would understand everything, would find that the song was... a language in itself.

Blaster laughed, as though Glit's answer had actually made any sense. It wasn't worth it, she thought. It was just too early in the morning. As much as this was a morning, at least... the dim lighting made it hard to be sure what time it was, but she didn't really care too much. She had slept and woke, and that was enough to call it 'morning'.

Slowly, she realized that Blaster was making music, humming somehow. Not by vocalizing, but something about his systems. Blaster was also moving in time with the soft music. _She_ was too, she realized a little later. She was moving... and she thought that, somewhere in her body, a very soft tune was originating.

Or maybe it was just the growing melody from the caves. It was getting louder, and she was pretty sure there was a group of people close by. People... mechs, probably tape-decks, or cassettes, and she _knew_ that. She knew her guess was right, and when Blaster lead her into a larger cave, she wasn't surprised to find it matched her assumption.

Some mechs looked up at her, and she could feel, could _hear_ , attention shift to her for a moment. The ever-present melody quieted a moment, and then the mechs went back to what they were doing. Her systems, her personal melody, softened as the community's grew, and that was when she realized the way she had tried to fill the near-silence.

Blaster chuckled beside her, then took her hand, drawing her to the side. "This is the energon dispenser. You can have basically as much as ya need. Got flavors here, see? Been told it's a bit like a soda fountain, but try not to throw the cubes. I'm sure you're aware of how energon takes to enthusiastic jostling..."

She listened to Blaster, but found himself distracted. The song didn't match the words, and it made her... itchy, for lack of a better word. Uncomfortable, uneasy.

"Relax yourself..." Glit murmured, pressing against her leg. "It's nothing bad. It'll be explained soon..." There was something more to his words, as well. _It takes more than a cycle to learn the song_ was drawled, in Glit's voice, at the edge of her, not hearing, but... understanding. It was felt more than heard, sensed and not comprehended. And it made her terribly dizzy.

Blaster seemed to recognize this, and quickly turned, helping her to a seat. As soon as she was sitting, Glit jumped up, making free of her lap and watching Blaster until the red deck shrugged.

"Alright. Fine. Anyone object to Antiphonal joinin' our ranks?" Blaster asked.

The answer was not verbal, but the song swelled in welcome, bidding her to join them and overwhelming her until she lost herself. Only for a little while, and then she knew that her old name was indeed unimportant, just like any designation she might take, for she was Antiphonal, and she was home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antiphonal learns more about her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was around this chapter, and what has started of the next, that I have begun to realize how many effects I'm going to need. Italics, bold, I'm going to have to use the code tag at some point, I think!

She was Antiphonal, but even with an agnomen, with an awareness of the song, there was a lot for her to learn and adjust to. The song itself, for example. Antiphonal could hear it well enough, but she couldn't understand more than a quarter, maybe a third, of the information the song conveyed. Since the tape-decks seemed to mostly converse by singing, this was a problem.

Singing was not something she'd ever thought she'd be good at. She'd always _enjoyed_ it, but she'd never been very _good_ at. In this new form, though, Antiphonal found that she was good at singing. Not as good as the tape-deck _singer_ , the entertainers, the ones who, even in a recording, made her want to cry with their voices. Never as good as that.

Of course, Glit told her, _any_ tape-deck was a good singer by mech standards. And then, without prompting, the cassette had assured Antiphonal that she wasn't painful to listen to, or even a little unpleasant. She wouldn't be an entertainer, but very few were. He promised to, one orn, when she would understand, show her the tape-deck whose singing was painful. When she was ready, and even after a couple orns with him, she was tired of that phrase.

Another thing Antiphonal didn't know how to take was the fact that Glit kept hanging around her. It was very _nice_ , having someone willing to explain things, someone who seemed to know what she would ask before she needed to. Some of that, Antiphonal was sure, was just because of the song which played from her chassis and her voice at all times.

It was, she was told, nearly impossible for a tape-deck to hide emotions from another tape-deck. When she'd asked, Glit had confirmed that he meant _any_ , and even Soundwave was quite readable for them. Twincast was harder, Glit added. They were different...

And that was all Glit would say about Twincast.

Antiphonal found Glit's silence a little odd, especially since even his song said little. It made her wary when Twincast came to her door, though the iris colored mech only seemed amused by her mood. They nodded, staying politely out of Antiphonal's space. “We said we would return to help. Glit helps, but... we know how he can be.”

Antiphonal found herself laughing, and she stepped out. _Cat_ , she hummed, not entirely intentionally, and nodded. “Yeah, he's... But anyway. What are we doing?”

“We are returning to med-bay. We need to scan you. You belong here, but we are not certain about your form. Or your powers of observation,” Twincast answered. Antiphonal had long ago noticed that tape-decks never seemed capable of a straight answer, even when they gave one, and so wasn't really surprised that the answer left her with more questions. 

She worked on those questions, not in silence, never that, but by herself, as she followed Twincast. What had they meant by her form? It probably tied in with the barb about her observational powers, Antiphonal knew, but that wasn’t really helping things at the moment. In any case, she didn’t have to wait long to find out. Twincast did indeed take her med-bay, and promptly sat her in front of a computer before hooking various things up to her. Her reaction was purely musical, a trill of inquiry, but no fear. Tape-decks, from what she had seen, were loath to hurt each other, which did make a couple episodes she had seen… weird.

It only took a few moments of looking at the screen for Antiphonal to work out what Twincast had meant. The language she was reading was not English, but she understood it just as easily, and it was easier not to think about it. The answer to her question was that tape-decks came in more than one ‘model type’. And, since all three types were present here, that would explain the ‘observation’ bit as well. Antiphonal cycled her vents, since she couldn’t sigh any more. Twincast did have a point; she hadn’t noticed the differences, and they weren’t really that subtle.

There were satellite-type, massive mechs who were not designed for the bottom of gravity wells, though she was sure they could manage it. They could probably manage it and be completely bad-ass while doing so. She wondered what it was like for them, when so much of their communication was by song, to stay in silent space. Maybe, Antiphonal thought, she would ask one. Or maybe she wouldn’t need to ask, when she met one.

There were 'classical' frames, like herself, only they weren’t _really_ classical. They were as likely to be vans as cassette recorders, and she wondered which she was. They didn’t look very different, with speakers and wheels and buttons and the clear glass cassette bay… They sounded different, and she didn’t even have to hear them to know that. Their cassettes, she read, were also similar- they all plugged in like what she would call USB, so it was only a matter of framing, but they were the same for these two, and could be shared. That seemed… Antiphonal wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.

Finally, there were the lithe, thin aerial-type, who hosted their cassettes on the outside, as armor, or deep within, around their very spark casing. They were strangest, newest, and even other tape-decks weren’t certain what they thought of the aerial types. They were often silent, aside from the song, and their cassettes were much closer to drones in programming. There was care between them, though, and so the tape-decks were inclined to accept them as just another variation of their forms. 

Of course, there were various cassettes as well, though they could change between the classes. Anyone could change between classes, if they wished. There were thinner cassettes who folded into sleek cylinders, usually for the satellites, sometimes working with the aerials. There were classic tape cassettes, although that was just appearance. It was just body-shape, for all of them, and the linkages didn’t change. Even with the strange, thick-armored and spindly cassettes for the aerials, the linkages were the same. Any cassette could, if needed, link to any tape-deck. Antiphonal wondered what would create that kind of a need, and she didn’t ask.

“You are fond of Glit?” Twincast asked abruptly, though the question didn’t interrupt Antiphonal’s reading. She was fairly sure they had waited on the song to tell her she was done. It was something that even she could do without too much difficulty. The fact that her answering yes was entirely nonverbal was intentional, and she felt proud of her success. Twincast seemed pleased with her game, and her answer, and she listened to them hum in thought for a while.

“Then there is no reason to change your form now. You may find a reason later,” they answered, nodding a little and removing the various hook ups. She had not noticed the scans, and Antiphonal made a mental note to at least _try_ and pay better attention. There was a war going on, at least in some sense of the word, in some places. She still wasn’t entirely certain about that…

Twincast motioned for her to leave, and Antiphonal obeyed, because med-bay was like a doctor’s office, and as nice as Twincast seemed to be, she didn’t really want to stick around. With little idea of where to go, and no real desire to return to her rooms, Antiphonal decided to just… wander for a while. No-one would mind that, she was sure.

It took her a while to realize that she was feeling lighter. Frowning just a little, Antiphonal looked around, and saw nothing unusual. There were other mechs around, which made sense; she was in the public halls. They were, she realized, far more spindly, and some more massive… More satellites and aerials, fewer classics. She felt pleased that she had noticed the difference.

Continuing on, Antiphonal decided that she was definitively going ‘up’. And the reason she was feeling lighter was because gravity was decreasing. She almost stopped when she saw the hard light of the stars ahead of her, only to remember that she didn’t need oxygen. She didn’t even need an atmosphere, though she preferred it. Hesitantly, she took the final steps out of the cave and onto the surface.

Her first thought was that she was on the moon, but she could only see stars, and some other shapes near-by, shapes that _also_ looked a lot like moons, but so very close. It wasn’t the moon, and the stars didn’t look at all familiar. This was no-where near Earth. It had to be a different solar system, maybe even galaxy. There was a slight, very slight, atmospheric haze, around this ‘moon’ and the others… And around the whole group of shapes were smaller objects, glinting in the star-light. Satellites. Her… kin.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” a voice asked. Antiphonal turned, and was startled by how close to her the mech was. He had sounded further away…

“It- yes. It… is…” she answered, and realized her voice was softer too. If there was less gravity… there was probably less air up here, she realized.

The mech, a magenta classic with yellow glass, smiled at her. “I’m Sonance. You’d… be the one everyone’s been singing about? It’s… different, isn’t it?”

“I… Um. Yeah. It’s very… different. Er… I’m… Antiphonal.” This was the first time, she realized, that she had spoken to a mech without Glit around since she had met the cassette. She hoped she didn’t mess up some how…

“Antiphonal. Pleased to meet you. ...I’m like you. I mean, from Earth. We all were- I mean, my cassettes and I. How… much about that have you been told? For that matter, who’s guiding you?” Sonance motioned a little, to a… bench. Apart from being giant-robot-sized, it was very normal, and Antiphonal looked at it in momentary confusion.

“Ah… nothing? I… it’s rather obvious that I’m not the only one… er… Glit is… I guess…” Antiphonal gave a little shrug, surprised by the new information. Yes, it had been obvious that she wasn’t the only, but she hadn’t really thought about it. Then again, she _had_ been adjusting to a lot of other things. After a moment, she went for the bench Sonance had pointed out.

Sonance laughed a little, nodding. “I remember Glit. He didn’t really guide me, but he _was_ the first cassette I docked. I think he’s the first cassettes most of us dock…” There was fondness in his tone and his song, and Antiphonal realized she was working very hard to keep from looking at the glass or the buttons. It didn’t seem polite. She did worry that Sonance would ask if _she_ had ‘docked’ Glit, but that question also seemed impolite.

“So, what happened here is, quite a long time ago, someone showed up like us. The first few transfers didn’t go well, Autobots and Decepticons, everything I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with. It kept happening, and they finally just adjusted, and now there’s actually quite a large community of fans, and fanfics, and fan recreations, and… you get the idea. We can reach that data-net from here- that’s kind of what we’re good at, you know? But for the most part, well… we handle things differently.” Sonance nodded, then paused.

“I’ve noticed. I’ve… not really tried to look anything up or… anything…” Antiphonal admitted, looking up again. The sky was so alien, but it was also… lovely.

Sonance hummed reassurance, also looking up. “I would say don’t bother. All of that’s just a data-set, and those are pretty easy to incorporate. At least, again, for us. Focus on _learning_ us, understanding us… You’ll have to leave Auditron eventually, we all do, but while you’re here, you have time. Use it.”

She wasn’t sure what she thought of leaving this place, but Antiphonal didn’t say anything. Her song betrayed her, but Sonance ignored it. It was nice, though, to just… sit with someone, someone who understood. Antiphonal did have to admit, though, that she kind of missed Glit’s presence. He would probably just curl up for her, let her treat him _as_ a cat, but it would be… nice.

“Would you like to meet them?” Sonance asked after a moment. He waited for Antiphonal to look at him, and trill inquiry, before clarifying. “My cassettes. They’ll like you, I think, and somehow I suspect you haven’t had much contact with cassettes past Glit…” Amusement, and fondness. The song was becoming easier to Antiphonal.

Antiphonal paused, cycled her vents, and allowed herself a brief mental break over the concept of ‘docking’ and its relation to the very much _mech_ in front of her. Not, and she knew this on some deep level she would have called instinct before, that being a ‘mech’ meant anything the same as being a ‘man’ had meant, on Earth. She was the odd one, and she wasn’t entirely certain if she actually classified as ‘femme’ or if that was just a habit from humanity. Right now, it didn’t really matter, and Glit _would_ offer advice on this, she was sure. “Yes. I… think I would like to meet them.”

It was pretty much exactly what G1 had taught her to expect. Sonance didn’t press a button, but his chest slid open and two small forms came flying out, transforming in mid-air. One landed on the rocky surface, the other hovered in the air on small jets- or anti-gravs, more likely. The flying one caught her attention first, the form not at all what she had expected. It was a _dolphin_ , and now appeared to be swimming, quite contentedly, in the air. The other was an ape. Antiphonal thought ‘miniature ape’, at first, and then realize that the cassette was probably larger than any real ape.

“Flashdrive is my mech-frame there, and the scale-frame is Tailspin. And _you two_ have been paying quite enough attention, so you know who she is,” Sonance introduced.

It was the dolphin who spoke, undulation slightly in the air. “Ah, hush, Son’,” she said, keeping the ‘o’ long. “Of course we listen. It’s what we do.” She gave a particularly deep undulation, which seemed to be a nod, and then turned a little to look at Antiphonal. “Hello. Pleased to meet you.”

She knew the ‘animal’ forms could speak. Glit spoke all the time. It was still a little strange, and she knew the little femme could hear that. “Hello,” Antiphonal said, trying to ignore how she felt. She’d get used to it, she was sure. Why, she wondered suddenly, had a human- former human- chosen an animal cassette form?

“Because it felt right to me. I started a mech-frame, all whites and pink. This orange and yellow works better, doesn’t it?” Tailspin said, answering the sung question with amusement. She had probably had to explain quite a lot, Antiphonal realized. She felt a bit ashamed of making Tailspin go over it again.

Tailspin didn’t want shame, though, or anything else. Antiphonal cycled her vents again, and nodded. “I think… yes. Orange and yellow works… well on you.” She paused, then looked down at her own leg and laughed a little. “I guess, maybe, I’d be… expected to say that, huh?” She… did like her own colors, though, Antiphonal thought.

“Not if that’s a first paint,” Flashdrive said, voice far deeper than his frame suggested.

“...It… is,” Antiphonal answered, feeling out what he’d meant. This was the paint she’d woken up in… “But I do… like it. ...Of course, I like Sonance’s colors too…” Did that sound like she was flirting? But if it did, it would be obvious from her song that she _wasn’t_ , Antiphonal told herself. Sonance, she noticed, was amused, and he did smile at her, but didn’t seem to take her compliment as flirting.

They continued talking until Glit came to tell Antiphonal that it was getting late. Sonance seemed happy to see the miacia-frame again, but didn’t keep them, promising to see Antiphonal again as he collected his cassettes and left. Antiphonal was left alone with Glit, who was indeed curling into her lap as she’d expected.

“You enjoyed your meeting with another?” Glit asked after some time. Antiphonal didn’t need to verbalize her affirmation. They were alone on the bench, even with the Satalites circling the asteroids. She could hear the song, but it was faded out here, and she wondered again about silence. It didn’t seem that appealing to her.

“Have you considered maintenance?” Glit asked again, after more time. Antiphonal hummed inquiry. “There is more to your maintenance than keeping clean and fueling. You needn’t… worry about them, quite yet. I shall probably be with you still when you do.”

_Docking_ , Antiphonal thought. Glit heard, but Antiphonal didn’t address it. “Your maintenance, then?” she asked. She hadn’t felt any ‘urge’ to dock him, unless generalized curiosity counted. Then again, she wouldn’t be particularly surprised to learn that it did count.

“I am, of course, a medic, and better able to perform self-maintenance than many others,” Glit answered. It answered both of Antiphonal’s questions. “And of course, this is all still very new to you.” He paused, and she heard the spike of humor a moment before Glit said, “I daresay you haven’t even fully explored yourself yet.”

And now he was speaking of masturbation, and Antiphonal found that tape-decks certainly could blush. It was more of a squeal and a whine in her song than a physical heating, and she was momentarily distracted by the desire to hear _Soundwave_ ‘blush’. Glit chuckled, kneeding into her leg and butting just under the glass of her empty, never-opened, docking bay. Then he jumped off, and Antiphonal followed him ‘home’ wordlessly.

That night, thinking of what Glit had said, Antiphonal dared to touch herself. She wasn’t really trying to find pleasure right now, just because the idea was still too new, too strange. But she really didn’t know her body, aside from the blindingly obvious- and after Twincast’s comments, she wasn’t even sure about _that_.

Her buttons, she found, were not as sensitive as fandom had made them out to be. It felt _nice_ to have touch on them, or even to push them, but it was more the niceness of a massage than anything. She had to get past the fact that parts of her, machinery deep inside, reacted to the buttons- which answered at least one set of questions. Kibble and alt forms were fully functional, not merely decorative. She wondered what she might play if Glit were in a position to _be_ played, and then pushed the idea away. It was too new.

The glass of her dock, when she got there, was equally insensitive. Antiphonal was rather glad of that, since it was _so_ prominent. She might have lived most of her life with sensitive zones on her chest, but not having them… wasn’t bad. It also wasn’t really a fair comparison. Opening it could be done manually, with the shoulder button, but she also felt commands for doing so in her processor when she hit the button. That made sense, she thought; the other buttons seemed likewise under conscious control.

Reaching past the yellow glass, Antiphonal could feel the docks themselves, and _those_ were sensitive. They weren’t overly sensitive, not like she expected something _inside_ of her to be, but she could feel her own hands acutely. The docks were sunk into her frame, a parallel row of them, enough for maybe eight cassettes, and they didn’t feel nearly deep enough to hold one. They also didn’t exactly feel like they ‘ended’, either, and she put that on her list of things to ask Glit. 

The idea of transforming occurred to her, curiosity of just what her form was. In her life, now past, she had played with tape-decks, and camera-forms such as Reflector. She wasn’t entirely sure where the other forms had come from. Antiphonal rather suspected that she would be a true _tape_ deck, because that was what was familiar, and because her buttons worked. After a moment, she gave in to the impulse, executing the command the thought had brought up, and trying not to think about the way she _shrunk_.

She did wish she could see herself. For that matter, Antiphonal realized slowly, she rather wished she could… _see_. Optics were hidden behind armor, and she wasn’t even sure she actually still had her face, and she did her best to fight off panic. This was _normal_ , she was _made_ for this, and it wasn’t like she was sense-blind! She could even still see, in a manner of speaking, and that was the first time that she realized the echoes of the song had been guiding her as much as her optics down here. That helped her panic to recede, as did the sound of pede-falls, and the familiar song of Glit.

“Well, I can’t deny that I invited this…” the miaciaframe observed, curling around Antiphonal’s form. The contact relaxed her, and Glit hummed a little. “I would have stopped you, if I had realized you were going to transform alone. Most panic- I heard that. Ah… you’re not thinking much about it. Good.”

“I also don’t think about how much you can _hear_ , and no-one says that’s good,” Antiphonal muttered, abruptly feeling a bit sour. The human in her still wanted privacy, even though the idea of silence was scary.

“That would be because we don’t think that you _would_ think about it,” Glit answered. Everyone could hear everyone, it was how it _went_. “I am going to suggest I _not_ dock, in case you were thinking that.”

Antiphonal scoffed quietly. She actually had gotten so distracted by her form that docking had completely been forgotten. “That doesn’t help matters,” she answered. A tentative attempt at moving showed that she was, well… immobile, or close enough, and she fought down another wave of panic.

Glit moved immediately, pulling away from her. Antiphonal didn’t think, reverting back to the form she had learned since waking here. Then she hunched, curled in on herself, and cycled her vents harshly. “Okay. So I… don’t think I like that…” she managed to say after a few clicks. She needed to _say_ it, even though she could hear that Glit already knew it.

“Then we change it,” Glit agreed. “...Do you think you can manage until tomorrow?”

“I don’t want- I didn’t notice the other forms. I didn’t recognize them. I-” Antiphonal cut herself off, keened, and _we’re supposed to be_ tape _decks. Not cars or satellites or planes…_ she sang, the notes pure in distress.

Glit pressed his head to her shoulder, rubbed his cheek against her corners. “Then we don’t change it. It’s up to you. There are even those who reformat every groon.” She had only seen the first of the OCs’ canon, the white cassette surmised, but it didn’t matter. As long as she could sing, they didn’t care what form she took.


End file.
